A Right Song And Dance
by Vermilion Angel
Summary: Bodie and Doyle may face their greatest challenge yet... the irresistible force of the musical. Some mild language, some gratuitous and badly written songs.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing, I have no money, but a girl can dream._

_Summery: In the grand tradition of the Professionals musical, something which I hope constitutes humour interjected with bad songs. Very silly, for all the professional's Gen fans who, like me, find the genre a little lonely. Not Beta'd, so it may be a little rough around the edges._

**A Right Song And Dance**

"The theory is that it keeps you fit" Bodie said, mouth formed into a wicked grin. He took the steps to HQ two at a time to keep up with his partner. Doyle stopped his hurrying abruptly to look his partner up and down

"Well, it obviously hasn't worked for you" He observed before continuing up the steps. He opened the door and checked his watch

"9.00 exactly!" He exclaimed, he turned and poked Bodie in the chest "You owe me a fiver mate, c'mon, cough up." He held his hand out with a triumphant grin.

Bodie smirked at him, indicating the clock above the doorman's head "I think not, sunshine"

Doyle looked at the clock then back to Bodie "Oh no, by _my_ watch" Doyle tapped his wrist "And my watch says it's 9.00"

"That clock says five past" Bodie replied coolly, walking past him towards the front desk "and that clock is timed to _Cowley's_ watch"

Doyle glared daggers at his partner's back "You're not wriggling out of it, Bodie, you owe me fair and square"

Bodie just shrugged, he smiled at the doorman "Any messages Bernie?"

"Nope. No messages… calls…" Bernie sighed

"What's up Bern?" Doyle asked, signing his name in the book

"Well… it's like this…" Bernie began. The lights suddenly dipped and a single blue spotlight illuminated the doorman. The other two agents glanced at each other with mild alarm

* * *

_Bernie's Blues (Sung in a country/blues style)_

_Bernie:-_

Oh the life of a doorman is cold and it's lonely

My doggie died Sunday my wife left in May

I sit here for hours just here on my lonesome

With no-one to talk to until I get home

I never get calls

And I never get letters

Ain't nothing to do here just stare at the floor

The life of a doorman is cold and it's lonesome

With no-one to talk to until I go home

* * *

The lights came up. Bernie went back to reading his paper like nothing had happened. Both agents looked around for the spotlight but found none. They quickly made their way to the lift 

"What just happened?" Doyle whispered urgently,

"I don't know… but I think it's bad" Bodie replied in the same hushed tone.

Doyle punched a button and the lift door opened, both stepped inside. They remained silent as the lift ascended.

As the lift doors swished they exited carefully, but they found nothing amiss. Dismissing the episode as 'one of those things', they went into the ready-room for their morning tea. Anson and Cutter were already there and they nodded in greeting.

"Alright" Bodie said, pouring himself and Doyle some tea "How's things?"

Cutter shrugged and took a sip of tea "Could be worse."

"You uh… didn't notice anything about Bernie this morning did you?" Doyle asked

The other two looked at each other, Anson shook his head "No…"

"Actually, now you come to mention it…" Cutter interjected "He did seem a bit down"

Anson agreed, "Yeah, you're right actually"

Doyle nodded and took the offered mug of tea from his partner "So, what're you on today?"

Anson sighed "Another bloody stakeout"

The mug paused at Doyle's lips as music began to drift in the room from an unknown source. Dry ice began spreading across the floor and the lights dipped again. This time, a red spotlight fell on the other two agents in the room.

* * *

_Another Bloody Stakeout (Cutter and Anson) (Sung in rock Ballard style)_

_Anson:-_

Down in the suburbs there's some trouble going down

Enough to make even mister Cowley frown

In some dingy flat in Islington is where we're headed soon

From this early morning 'till the rising of the moon

_Cutter:-_

Whoa, whoa, whoa Stakeout!

(Stakeout!)

Another Bloody Stakeout!

(Stakeout!)

Sitting in the dark

Watching a car park

(Stakeout!)

Another Bloody Stakeout!

(Doo-wop, Doo-wop, Doo)

_Cutter & Anson:-_

Another bloody stakeout

Will really drive us mad

If it wasn't for the staking out

It wouldn't be that bad

(Drum roll finish)

* * *

Anson sighed and drained his mug. 

"Well, see you around" He dumped the mug in the sink and left, followed closely by Cutter who paused only briefly to shrug on a coat. As the door swung shut, Bodie and Doyle gazed at each other in shared horror

"What the hell?"

Doyle looked down at his mug "Do you think there's something in the water?"

His partner stared, horrified, at his half-empty mug and disgustedly poured it down the sink "I hope not"

Doyle did the same to his and uneasily eyed his friend "Well, if you get the urge to sing… just hold it in"

Bodie nodded "if I start, just hit me"

"With pleasure" Doyle replied "Come on, let's see if the Cow knows what's up"

"What if he starts singing?" Bodie asked

"I don't know mate… I just don't know"

* * *

Cowley seemed his usual grumpy self, which was promising. He looked at his two top agents over his glasses and handed them and assignment. 

"You'll be following up on the Crawford case, I need you to go down to the docks and pick up a man named Oswald Grimwald. He doesn't know you're coming and probably won't come quietly"

"Oswald Grimwald?" Bodie said incredulously "Is that his real name?"

"Yes Bodie, that's his real name." Cowley snapped, "What are you still sitting here for, get moving."

"Running all the way sir" Bodie replied standing up and heading for the door, pleased Cowley had not sung one note at them

"Oh, and don't underestimate him… Oswald is a wily one"

"With a name like Oswald Grimwald?" Doyle said

Cowley shook his head "Never underestimate your enemy…"

Doyle felt a cold feeling overtake his as a rousing military tune struck up, panicked he looked at his partner who shrugged helplessly. A Union Jack flag lowered from the ceiling behind Cowley.

* * *

_Never underestimate your enemy – (Cowley) (Sung in marching tune style)_

_Cowley:-_

While I was still a laddie

My grandma said to me

Never underestimate

Our wily enemy

Napoleon and Hitler

Foolishly believed

Their armies were invincible

And would certainly succeed

They did not think the British

Would put up such a fight

But those fools were beaten

By the British army's might

So if we have learnt anything

From our fighting history

It's not to underestimate

Any enemy!

* * *

Bodie and Doyle stood frozen to the spot for a few seconds. 

"What are you standing there for, get going!" Cowley barked. Shaken from their malaise for a moment, both agents fled the room.

They got into the corridor and remained silent

"I never want to go through that again" Doyle half-whispered

"This is worse then that time Murphy accidentally drank that three week old milk and started doing an interpretive dance on his desk," Bodie replied. He shook his head and patted his friend's shoulder "Come on, let's get down to the docks."

"I knew I should have stayed in bed," Doyle groaned, following Bodie out of the building.

* * *

They drove to the docks in relative silence until finally Bodie snapped 

"This is ridiculous" He exclaimed finally "It's just singing… it's probably a wind-up!"

Doyle looked to his right "They're probably all having a good laugh right now"

Bodie smiled half-heartedly "Yeah"

Doyle was quiet for a moment "You don't believe that either, do you."

His partner sighed regretfully, "No…" He pulled the car into the car park by the docks "Never mind, we're here now"

Both men got out of the car and walked down to where some workers were loading crates into a container.

"Oswald Grimwald?" Doyle shouted

One of the men looked around and his eyes widened, he dropped the box he was carrying and bolted. Bodie and Doyle sprinted after him. Being younger and fitter, they caught up easily. They pinned Oswald to the wall

"What's the matter Oswald?" Bodie asked, "We only want a word"

"Well, you've had one… so let me go!" Oswald tried to break away but was held firm. Doyle clipped the handcuffs on and they escorted him back to the car. Both agents were silent on the way back, and it made their prisoner nervous. He squirmed and chattered incessantly about his right until Doyle snapped at him to shut up. Oswald sulked quietly for the rest of the short journey. Oswald was taken to interrogation room two. Cowley joined them shortly after and sat down in front of Oswald. He tutted and shook his head,

"Now, are you going to co-operate?"

"Why should I?" Oswald protested. Suddenly, musical accompaniment sprang from no-where. Doyle attempted to bolt, but was stopped by a glare from his boss. Bodie just shrugged helplessly. Strobe lighting filled the room

* * *

_Why should I? (Oswald Grimwald) (Punk-rock style)_

_Oswald:-_

Ever since I could talk

I was told to listen

Do this, do that

Like I'm in prison

Why should I co-operate

With the pigs and the government

When have they ever

Done anything for me?

I'm not going to sit and listen

But give you a lesson

You've been missin'!

You can kiss my proletariat arse

'cause I won' be cowed by government farce!

* * *

Cowley frowned "It's a shame you feel like that, Mr Grimwald" He nodded to Bodie and Doyle "Isn't it?" 

Bodie nodded menacingly. He had long since adopted his professional distance which he called upon in time if crises. It gave him that extra-deadly looking no-feeling-behind-the-eyes psychotic glare that transferred well to interrogation settings. Doyle shared the look of a man-on-the-edge. Oswald wet himself.

* * *

Back in their office, the two men hoped that the nightmare that was the musical was over. That they hadn't talked to anyone else since the interrogation helped. 

"So, what were you planning to do at the weekend?" Doyle asked, hoping to shoehorn some normalcy into the day

"Thought I'd spend it with Tanya… or was that Tracy? One of those two anyway"

"I thought your new bird was called Abigail?"

"That was last week" Bodie replied casually

Doyle rolled his eyes "I don't know how you do it Bodie"

"No secret, mate, it's all part of the Bodie charm…"

Strange accompanying music began to filter in the room. Bodie's eyes widened in horror

"Oh no…" Doyle began

Bodie clamped his hands across his mouth and looked helplessly at his partner for assistance

"Don't start singing Bodie" Doyle warned, pointing his finger at his partner

Bodie winced, the background music was getting more insistent

"Fight it Bodie" Doyle encouraged him "That's it…"

Bodie kept his mouth tight shut, despite the now-shrilling music. Doyle looked everywhere to see where the music was coming from, but was unsuccessful. Bodie looked up apologetically, obviously loosing the battle with the urge to sing

"Come on Bodie… don't give up now," Doyle implored

Bodie shook his head and indicated the door

Doyle hated to abandon his partner, but it might be his only chance. He bolted out of the room as the music swelled. He didn't chance the lift, instead he sprinted down the stairs, crashing into a secretary and sending paper flying. He apologised briefly and dashed past Bernie at the door, who looked up at the secretary. She simply shrugged philosophically, as if that sort of thing happened all the time. Doyle jumped into the car, shaking his head at his own cowardice. He abandoned Bodie in the middle of a musical. He pulled away from HQ and went home, bolting the door as he got in.

"Safe at last" He sighed.

Then the music started.


End file.
